


Boxes

by Feelysonheelys



Category: Atop the Fourth Wall
Genre: (it's in the middle of His Blue Soul), (that's just part of the setting), Christmas (but it's not a holiday fic), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, His Blue Soul arc, Themes of Loss, because there's just NO sad fanfiction in this trash heap is there, good news: i am adding to the trash heap, i have no pollo fanfiction and I must scream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:00:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelysonheelys/pseuds/Feelysonheelys
Summary: “Are you gonna take care of the tree, or do you want me-”“Not yet.”A quiet second passes. “Not yet?”“Pollo hasn’t opened his Christmas presents yet.”It's January of 2012. Linkara finds it hard to accept Pollo's absence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it, I have planned out fanfics for months and the first thing I manage to buckle down, write, and complete since last summer is a piece of flash fiction that only took a few hours' combined work and it's setting is post-Christmas. I'm publishing this in April, y'all.
> 
> At least it's technically not about the holidays. Enjoy.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hm?”

“I see you’ve put away most of the Christmas stuff.”

“Oh, yeah. I figured it was time.”

“Are you gonna take care of the tree, or do you want me-”

“Not yet.”

A beat.

“Not yet?”

“Pollo hasn’t opened his Christmas presents yet.”

Another beat. Longer, with a tension hanging in the air. A deep breath.

“Kid.”

“He hasn’t opened his Christmas presents yet. He’ll want to do it under the tree.”

The pause is less awkward, but still tense. There are a few soft footsteps, then the ever so faint creak of a second person on the couch.

“Don’t you think that’s a little-”

“Stupid?”

“I wasn’t going to say stupid.”

“It is stupid, though. I know it’s stupid. You don’t have to sugarcoat it. But he complained last year about me unwrapping things for him, I want it to go better this time...”

“I know it’s hard, Linkara.”

“...and he’s going to find something to complain about anyway, and it’s going to take forever to unwrap presents with just a beak, but if we try to step in, he’ll insist on doing it himself, which is why I made sure to-”

He stops, perhaps due to some interference. There is a shaky intake of breath.

“I can’t do this, Harvey.”

His voice is softer than it should be. Softer than it has the right to be.

“We’re gonna find him, kid.”

“I know.”

“But it’s gonna take a bit of time. And we’re already pretty close to February. If he really wants the tree when he gets back, we’ll take it out of storage. Until then, we need to keep going. And considering that _I’m_ the one telling you this-”

“I know, Harvey. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“Sorry for that too.” A sniffle. “You wanna help me take down the tree?”

“Of course.”

The couch creaks slightly again, in the way that Pollo has learned to recognize from standing motionless in the display case. Picking up the slightest sounds had become a necessity for understanding his surroundings, given his limited sight. It had taken until New Years’ Eve for him to fully grasp the vision functions of the Tom Servo body his consciousness had been transferred into, and being in a glass case between bookshelves didn’t exactly give him a wide view.

He wants to launch himself out of the case, to shout that he’s here, he’s been here the whole time, but the foreign body he’s trapped in refuses to cooperate. Learning to slowly move his head alone feels like an upward struggle up an eighty-five degree hill, teaching himself how to move and speak again seems impossible.

But he can’t give up.

Not when Linkara went to the trouble of wrapping those Christmas presents.


End file.
